Amaziel crashed into me as I stopped short. His beak jabbed the back of my neck.

I’ve told you how it was in the jungle—the King was our mythology, our history, our politics. Without him, there would be no villages, no compounds, no school, no thing. Or so he’d have us believe (cough, cough, cooling systems). Part of me wondered if the King really existed, but I never accepted the idea that he was just another lie. If there was no King, what was the point of any of it?

Amaziel walked around to face me and apologized for the peck from his sharp beak. “At first, there was a human known as the King. He’s the one who organized the compounds. But his soldiers rebelled against him. To keep their power, they acted like nothing had changed. They pas...

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